Being saved by John Wick
by The Breckoning
Summary: Ronel has a passion for journalism. But one day she sticks her nose where it doesn't belong and her life is in jeopardy. The Reaper, allegedly rumored to be one of many notorious hit man is there to protect her, but why? As they try to escape capture together, romance ensues and blood is shed. A John Wick Fanfiction


**Chapters will be added on accordingly. This fanfic is a collaboration between myself and a friend and is also our first ever fan-fiction.** **[Rated M for depictions of abuse, intimate sex, language, murder, drug use, assault and kidnapping]**

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'This is it. This is where I die.'

Muffled voices could be heard from afar, in the same room or perhaps another room. She couldn't tell, as the thick blindfold slung around her head blocked her vision indefinitely. The serrated ropes that bound her hands behind her dug into her skin as she pulled and tugged; there was no give. Likewise, the same binding at her ankles squeezed her calves against the chair legs, keeping her lower half firm in place. With panicked and desperate movements, she thrashed around in the chair, leaning into and pulling at the ropes praying that even one would snap or loosen slightly. To no avail she slumped back, panting and moaning a bitter sob, realizing that the mess she got into would evidently end here in a slow, painful death.

It was only mere hours ago she had been trailing the hit man known as "The Reaper." It was a personal project outside of the magazines assignments, and she had been cultivating information about this man for months. She anticipated it would be a huge story, along with the revelation that the revered Continental hotel knowingly hosts criminals from around the globe. Being a journalist, she was well aware of the risks, and had taken many steps to ensure she would not be discovered by any of the investigated parties. Yet here she was, her memory fuzzy and unclear about what she had been doing prior to this position.

Lifting her head up at the sound of four or more footsteps, the frozen journalist attempted to keep herself composed.

"Wh-who are you? Where... am I? What do you-"

"Ah ah, that's enough. I'll be asking the questions, Miss Ronel Williams." The man's voice was still yet course as he shuffled slowly around her, his shoes making a slight scuffle as they glided across the smooth concrete floor.

"You're probably thinking that we're going to kill you here, or worse." A large, sturdy hand rested firmly on her shoulder, Ronel tensing up at his touch. "But really, we don't want to have to resort to that. That's why you're still blindfolded." His other hand gripped her other shoulder as he stood from behind. She felt him lean in as his voice spoke softly right beside her ear.

"So, you're going to tell us everything you know. We're going to take all of your documents and notes and you're going to pretend that you never took on this death wish of a project, right Ronel?"

Ronel shakily nodded, overwhelmed with fear as tears blotted and soaked the blindfolded.

"Good. Good girl." Finally, the hands left her shoulders and she heard him exit the room, Ronel feeling as if she could breathe again, almost. Unexpectedly, she felt another set of hands wrap around her, this time with much more force and strength.

"What? N-no st-" Ronel's voice was muffled as one of the hands clasped over her mouth, squeezing harshly against her face as another hand slipped around her neck and gripped as her throat tightly.

"Shut up! You're just gonna' take this and be quiet!" The voice was hurried and eager, as the man's hand left her mouth and scrambled down into her blouse, clenching and rubbing at her breasts.

"No! Stop! Please don't do this! Please, somebody!" Ronel sobbed as she leaned away from the man, tugging and whipping about in attempt to get away from him.

Suddenly, several gunshots and yells could be heard from afar. The attacker perked up and pulled away from her as the firing drew nearer. A loud crash was heard as the door to the room swung open.

"No! Wait! St-"The man's shouting was cut short by a single gunshot. Ronel shook her head in fear, unknowing of what was to happen to her as the blindfold was pulled from her head.

"It's alright, I'm going to get you out of here." A deep, soothing voice said from behind her, as the restraints began to loosen. Her vision was starting to focus as she peered over at the man's body sprawled a foot away from her, blood pooling around his head almost trailing to her feet. Turning away, Ronel clasped her freed hands over her mouth, nausea overcoming her.

"No time for that, we have to go, now." He took her arm gently and lifted her out of the chair. Ronel turned to look at her savior, her eyes widening at the sight of the very man she had been tracking, the one rumored to be The Reaper. She had never got a close look at him, but here he was now, his dark brown hair slightly haphazard and falling over his dark eyes. A well-groomed scruff adorned his face, which was stern and attentive. The all too familiar black suit was spotted with blood, and his black tie swung about as they rushed out of the room and through the hall. Ronel tried to keep her eyes on this man and away from the bodies slumped along the corridor. They rounded a corner, The Reaper kneeling and shielding her behind him as he fired off more shots down an adjacent hallway.

She got a good look at the place, which appeared to be a warehouse of sorts. A bullet slammed into the wall beside her head causing her to yelp and take her out of her observance. She scrunched down behind him as he fired a few more rounds, once again taking her arm and pulling her up as they rushed down the hallway and out of the building.

The night was cool and the scent of rain and wet asphalt hung in the air. She took a deep breath of relief as they approached his Mustang, hopping into the car and The Reaper quickly starting it and pulling out of the lot. Still in disbelief, and trying to breathe through the shock of everything, Ronel leaned back tensely in the passenger seat fighting tears as they sped down the highway, the city lights glowing and growing closer.

Peering over at him nonchalantly, she didn't know what to say or do. She certainly did not want to set him off in any way. But the anxiety of not knowing what was to become of her was making her feel even more nauseous and panicked. He rescued her and that act alone had instilled some sense of trust; she knew full well if he would have wanted her dead she would be. These thoughts occupied her enough to keep her from bailing out of the moving vehicle.

He stayed silent, his eyes focused on the road ahead, the stern look unyielding and unreadable. Ronel looked down into her hands, the right words not coming to her. Despite the circumstances he was still a dangerous hit man, yet she started to feel like she could rely on him. She somewhat felt safe now. After all, he managed to get her out of that place alive.

"My name is Ronel. Ronel Williams."

"I know your name. I know more about you than you know about me." His voice was plain and staunch, almost authoritarian. She slunk back in the seat, feeling guilty and unnerved. He continued. "At first you were a nuisance. Nothing to worry about, but then you brought some guys out of the woodwork for me. Thank you."

"So I was just a pawn in all of this." Her voice trailed off, too low for him to catch. She looked out the window as they pulled up to the Continental. Sitting up, she hastily spoke to him. "Hold on, why are we here? I'm not going home?" She made the assumption that since he had information on her he would take her home straight away.

The Reaper put the car in park as the valet approached. He gave her a pleasant yet forthcoming smile, his eyes meeting hers. "If I take you home you'll be dead within the hour. So, you're staying here tonight." His eyes stuck something warm and anxious in her. Quickly, she turned away and stepped out of the passenger seat without a word, well aware that running away would be a foolish and futile option.

Ronel had been in the Continental's lobby many times before, but now the atmosphere was different. She could feel eyes watching from all around as they stepped up to the front desk, the sense of power and danger being beside this man intoxicating her with a strange sensation. The gentlemen behind the desk adjusted his glasses and gave The Reaper a friendly yet mannered grin.

"Welcome back Mr. Wick."

'Wick…Mr. Wick' Ronel thought, finally learning the surname of her protector.

Mr. Wick gave him a nod.

The gentleman glanced at me then back to him. "I apologize but we are out of doubles at this time. Can I offer you a single king with a sofa?"

"That's just fine, is the doctor in?" Mr. Wick said.

"Twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week sir." The man answered diligently.

Mr. Wick nodded politely. "Send him up please."

"As you wish, sir."

The hotel room was luxurious, comforting and somewhat cozy. The lighting was warm, and Ronel spared no time in plopping down on the large king bed, sighing with relief and exhaustion. With an awkward glance, she eyed Mr. Wick from afar as he ambled around the room.

"I'll take the sofa." Mr. Wick stated as if he had read her mind.

Just then, a soft knock broke the silence. Mr. Wick opened the door and appearing before him was a short, middle-aged, and finely dressed Asian man with a rather large brief case. He entered the room and made his way to the table, situating his briefcase atop it. The sound of it slamming on the table made Ronel jump, not realizing that the case was much heavier than the man made it seem. 'He's probably been here awhile.' She thought as she observed him.

Mr. Wick stood beside her. "It's just a checkup. Just making sure you are okay physically."

The Doctor opened up his brief case and took out his stethoscope, asking her to sit up straight and take a few deep breaths for him. Following, he took her blood pressure and checked out her eyes and ears before asking "Are you in any pain right now?" Ronel answered back, "I have a headache and just a few minor cuts and bruises. I think I'm okay." During this, Mr. Wick left to the restroom.

Next, the doctor checked out her wrists and ankles where the rope held her in place. He reached into a pocket of his brief case and gave her a tube of pharmaceutical cream. "Apply this to the areas on your arms and legs before you go to bed tonight and it will help soothe the pain and make it more comfortable to sleep." He started to pack up his tools and gather everything together when Mr. Wick then came out of the bathroom.

"She is still in a little bit of shock and has a minor concussion. I left a bottle of sleep-aid to help get through the night but if her headache gets worse, call me."

Mr. Wick gave him a nod and slipped what looked like a gold coin into the palm of his hand, giving it a firm shake before the doctor took his leave. Ronel found a comfortable position on the sofa as Mr. Wick returned to the bathroom. With her back towards him, she found that the mirror across from her faced his way, where she spied him shedding his blazer and loosening his tie in the doorway. Attempting to advert her gaze, her eyes crawled back to the mirror as he began to unbutton his dress shirt, slipping it off and revealing defined muscles that glistened lightly from a thin layer of sweat. Among his toned flesh she noticed religious tattoos etched alongside the aged scars that carved into him. With her eyes still fixed, her body began to heat up as he turned to toss his shirt giving her a full view of his toned and well-built figure. At that moment he looked up into the mirror, catching her gaze. Promptly, her eyes shot away while she sat up, sheepishly looking down and running her hand through her hair timidly.

"I'll need to shower after you, Mr. Wick." Ronel muttered looking back up at him directly.

"Call me John." His deep brown eyes gazed at hers and with a friendly nod, he closed the bathroom door. In frustration, Ronel let out a heavy sigh and buried her head into the sofas pillow. After a few minutes the bathroom door opened, steam flooding out as John exited with a robe on. Ronel hopped up, her gaze focused on the ground as she hurried over to the restroom. "I-I'll need a spare change of clothes." She stammered meagerly as she rushed in and closed the door behind her.

After her shower, she found the clothes John left for her on the foot of the bed, along with her topical cream and two pills. After changing, she crawled into bed and set the pills on the nightstand before applying the cream to her arms and legs. John was already on the sofa, from where she was she couldn't tell if he was asleep or not. However, with a faint feeling of disappointment, she pulled the cover up over her and shut off the lamp. She had refused to take the sleep aid the doctor left, knowing that he wasn't going to force anything on her. What felt like an hour went by, as Ronel tossed and turned unable to sleep. The day's events, avoiding eventual rape and looming danger hung over her like a cloud while thoughts of John saving and defending her spun around in her head frantically. She had never felt so protected in her life, even from past lovers and family. 'I must be important to him. I matter to him.' She thought, rubbing her eyes and shaking her head to herself. 'No, it had to be some other reason why he's doing this for me.' Fed up with her feelings, she crawled out of bed quietly and flicked on a light, heading to the bathroom to splash water on her face. Leaning over the counter, she stared at herself in the mirror trying to put any of her thoughts in order when another light in the room came on.

"Everything alright?" John stood in the doorway, appearing as if he had not been asleep at all. Ronel straightened up, slowly approaching the doorway with an eager look in her eyes, thoughts swirling. 'What am I to him?' Why is he even having these views on someone he doesn't know personally?'

"Nothing is alright…" She spoke softly, attempting to walk by him to get back to her bed. Abruptly, she tripped and he caught her, yet he didn't move he only stared. His eyes peered into hers as she looked up in confusion. Reaching to move a few strands of hair from his eyes, she gazed back as they looked sharply into hers. They seemed to know instantly what each other wanted. Without hesitation and almost simultaneously, their arms wrapped around one another as their lips sunk together. Their kissing was deep and rough and eager, leaving little room to breathe. Panting, John slipped his plain white shirt up over him, Ronel pulling it from his arms and tossing it to the hallway floor, as her hands pressed into him and searched his body for every curve and muscle. John pulled off her shirt with ease, leaning down to gently kiss and suck at her breasts, lightly biting her soft skin as he held her waist. She let out a fanatical moan as he came back up to her level, yanking down his sweatpants and throwing them aside. Ronel bent down and started tugging violently at his boxers, letting them fall to the ground.

John scooped Ronel up and slammed her against the wall, propping her legs up as he bit and sucked at her neck. She groaned impatiently, her hands grasping at his back and pulling him into her, the sensation of him filling her up caused her to gasp noisily. Each thrust into her was heavy and strong, the intense pleasure of the friction against her clit making her claw and scratch at his back. He began to push harder and faster into her, taking one of her arms and pinning it against the wall above her head with the crook of her free arm holding onto his neck desperately. She clenched her legs around him as she came, gasping for air as he continued to slam into her. Moments later he let out long, exasperated grunt, panting and slowly lowering her down before leaning against the wall beside her. They both stood there for a few moments catching their breaths, their heated, damp bodies cooling down as Ronel let out a small giggle. Still winded, John turned to her with a puzzled look. She peered over at him with an exhausted smile. "Another shower?"

The following morning the concierge brought a fresh change of clothes for the two. After getting dressed they headed downstairs, not checking out but calling for the valet.

"We're going to need to stop by your place. We have to destroy any and all information you have on me, on the assailants and the Continental." John ordered as Ronel followed him out of the Mustang. "Stay behind me no matter what."

"Ok. I understand." She agreed, knowing that the story now was not worth the risk and would also jeopardize John. They hopped in and drove the several blocks over to her apartment. Moving around the back, they used the fire escape to get in through her window while John had his gun ready. John slipped into the dark studio first, checking behind the couch and other corners as Ronel hastily gathered her laptop and files. Suddenly, a few shots rang off in the bathroom. Ronel squeaked out a yelp in shock, dropping everything and leaped behind the couch. As much as she wanted to help, she knew it was safer for the both of them if he handled it himself. Anxiously, she waited as the sound of a raucous struggle went on out of reach.

A few moments later, John tumbled out of the bathroom, wrestling with a masked assailant. In shock, Ronel frantically looked around searching for anyway she could help. Quickly, he hand grappled a nearby lamp and threw it at the attacker, smacking the assailant only for another one to exit the bathroom and taze John from behind. The loud zap lit up the room as John quickly lost his grip on the man and fell to his knees. He tried once again to apprehend both attackers but another zap of the Taser to his jugular sent him limply to the ground. He lay there weak and struggling to get up but one of the assailants kicked him square in the temple and knocked him out cold.

"John!" Ronel cried as the man with the Taser hurried over to her. She attempted to evade him behind the couch, however the other attacker grabbed her from behind. She felt a sharp pain shoot throughout her body as the ground began to rush up to her. The attacker seized her from behind as she lost all strength and unconsciousness was overcoming her. She lay there wondering how John even had the strength to move after the first zap.

"No…John…Help…" She fought to keep her eyes open despite her body feeling only feeble and sore. The other man reached in again and tazed her once more. Intense pain flooded her system with everything going dark all at once.

The sensation of the frigid air slowly awoke Ronel. Her eyes adjusted to the lighting above her as she slowly saw the room come into focus. Blinking her eyes to help her see clearer, she realized she was bound and on her back. Still feeling frail and sluggish, she turned to look around. She was strapped down in four-point restraints onto a flat hospital bed, and off to her side was an IV that had already been inserted into her arm. From afar she viewed John in the same position, wearing no blazer and the sleeve to his collared shirt rolled up to reveal an IV over him. He still appeared to be unconscious. Petrified, thoughts of wondering how much time went by while they were out and what they were doing to them overcame her.

"No…what are you doing…" Ronel attempted to scream but it felt as if all energy had been drained from her. Her breathing was slow and heavy, feeling that even if she could sit up she wouldn't have the strength to do it.

"Oh, you're awake. This is not a good feeling, I know." An older man with an open lab coat stepped into view and walked over to her, tapping at the IV bag with an ominous smile. "You're going to help me tame that devil over there, yes? Of course, you are. This is my game now, and you both are disposable players."


End file.
